Whom God Hath Joined
by Riley
Summary: Star of the Guardians. Pre-Revolution AU. I always wondered what the Order of Adamant thought of the mind-link....


Disclaimer: Margaret Weis owns them; I'm just borrowing.   
  


Whom God Hath Joined   
  


Derek Sagan read the document over again, his eyes scanning what his mind could not take in. "No--- no...." 

But it was all correct: the Starfire seal over that absurdly archaic watermarked parchment the king insisted on using. 

Sagan's hand shook as he read the document a final time, his fevered brain finally forced to absorb the words. 

"Lady Maigrey Morianna is to be married to Lord Nigel Rathecoomb---" and a date not a month hence. 

Sagan's hand clenched on the paper involuntarily, crushing the hateful words. 

Maigrey--- his lady, the one person he cared anything for, who had ever allowed him any kind of care--- was to be taken from him. 

It was the nightmare he'd always feared the most, finally come horribly true. 

Sagan got to his feet and strode out of the room. 

Not if _he_ could help it!   
  


*****   
  


His Majesty's social secretary, Geoffrey Haversham, eyed the imposing figure on the other side of the desk with a mixture of distaste and something unpleasantly near nervousness. Bad enough that the bastard son of a priest should attain such rank as to be allowed to request an audience with His Majesty... worse still that the man lacked the courtesy and breeding to be properly grateful and patient. 

And worst of all that Commander Derek Sagan--- in no way Geoffrey's social equal--- should be allowed to turn his blood to water by his very hulking presence and threatening glance. 

Finally, though, the light on Geoffrey's desk lit up. "His Majesty," Geoffrey said, just barely disguising his relief, "will see you now." 

Under other circumstances, Sagan would have gotten a grim pleasure from Geoffrey's discomfort. 

But at the moment, he rather doubted than anything would ever give him pleasure again. 

His Majesty looked up at Sagan's entrance. Amodius Starfire's "office" was rather more of a drawing room, the king preferring as little business as possible about him. Ordinarily, this fact irked Sagan; today he didn't notice. 

He just barely remembered to make the formal bow. "Your Majesty." 

"Commander Sagan." Sagan raised his head in time to see the king incline his own just slightly. "What possesses you to seek an audience with us in such haste?" 

Sagan held up the decree. "This, Your Majesty." Unable to stop himself, he took a step forward. "Is it true that Your Majesty intends to marry off my second-in-command to a vicious fop from a planet where women are considered ornamental property?" 

"We would hardly put it that way, Commander," Starfire smiled benignly. "But yes, Lady Morianna is to be married to Lord Rathecoomb---" 

"Never mind that this will break up my squadron!" Not to mention break his heart, but he knew personal arguments would have no effect whatsoever. And he couldn't face the shame of admitting he loved the woman. Not to mention the scandal involved--- a commander in love with his second. 

"Your Majesty," he continued, getting himself under control with an effort, "must surely be aware that Lt. Commander Morianna and I are mindlinked---" 

"We are aware," Amodius said distantly. "However, our decision stands. It is for the good of the kingdom and the Blood Royal to join those lines together." He waved a hand. "You may leave us." 

"But, Your Majesty---" The words passed his lips before he realized that he'd spoken. 

The watery blue ice turned to ice. "Leave us." 

Sagan left. 

This was a setback. But he wasn't done yet. 

He rather doubted he was the only one who'd oppose this wedding. 

And one couldn't have a wedding without a bride.   
  


*****   
  


"No." Maigrey stared at the paper in horror. "No--- it can't be." She sank into the nearest chair and looked up at Sagan, begging him to make it false. 

Sagan, standing over her, his expression grave, shook his head. "All true, my lady, I'm afraid." His lips twisted. "I spoke to His Majesty this afternoon, to try to persuade him to change his mind. He was adamant." 

"No." Maigrey curled up in the chair, chewing at her knuckles, needing to bite, to rend and tear something. "No---" he voice sounded unnaturally high and breathy. "He's a snake--- a vicious little weasel who hires toughs to break the women he takes to bed---" That rumor was all around the palace. 

"I know." Sagan's voice was grave and passionless. "Maigrey, I know---" 

"Well, I won't do it!" She jumped to her feet, suddenly needing to move, to take some kind of action. "Damn it, I'll run--- I'd rather be an outlaw than a brainwashed puppet--- I'd rather die---" 

"Maigrey." Sagan's voice cut into her tirade. 

She whirled on him angrily. "You aren't going to try to force me to go along with this abomination, are you?" 

"No--- Maigrey, listen to me." Sagan caught hold of her arms. "There's another way." 

"What?" she stared up at him, challengingly. 

Sagan closed his eyes, tipped his head back slightly, as if trying to summon up all his strength. Then he looked back down at her. 

"You cannot marry Rathecoomb, my lady," he said gravely, "if you are already another man's wife." 

For a moment, Maigrey couldn't fathom the sense of his words, couldn't understand him at all. 

Then his true meaning hit her. "Derek... are you asking me to marry you?"   
  


*****   
  


Sagan backpedaled hastily at his lady's words. "My lady, I wouldn't impose on you so if it weren't for the circumstances---" 

"Derek, no." She rested her hands on his arms. "I would be... honored... to be your wife." 

He trembled at the words, the tender warmth in them and their meaning. 

Was it possible she... wanted him? 

No, it couldn't be; too much to imagine that. 

But then her slim arms came around him and her soft smooth cheek was against his and he could only cling to her in dizzy gratitude. 

He'd been careful about touching her since she reached puberty, careful not to impose on her in any respect. But dear God, he'd craved that touch and closeness they'd used to have, craved a little human contact from someone he was fairly sure wouldn't hurt him, much. 

Well, she seemed to be offering him a right to that--- wasn't that what it meant to be married? 

He drew back from her to ask again, to be certain of her answer. 

And her lips found his. 

This was the most delicious sensation in the world, her mouth on his, soft yielding skin cooler than his own pressed to his. And he clasped her in his arms and returned that kiss and thought that he wanted nothing more from life than to stay here in this moment with her. 

But then they broke for air and reality reasserted itself. He drew back from her, clasped her hand in his--- unwilling to let go fully. "Would it be precipitous of me," he asked, trying to keep his voice steady, "to suggest that we'd best do this as soon as possible?" 

Maigrey's eyes were glassy, her lips still parted--- but they cleared and firmed a little, a hint of mischief underlying her delight as she said, "Would tonight be too soon for you, my lord?" 

He let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Not at all, my lady. Not at all."   
  


*****   
  


Maigrey barely remembered the walk down to the motor pool that served the palace, couldn't think of anything but Derek's warm solid bulk beside her. 

She was going to marry the man she'd loved since childhood. He wanted her. 

Best to focus on that... and not on the circumstances that caused it. 

If she did that, she might break. 

She waited, nervous, while Sagan got them a car--- no driver, which was probably sensible; they certainly didn't want anyone to know where they were going until after the fact. 

It was one of the older vehicles in the palace, with a bench seat in front, otherwise unprepossessing. Sagan held the door for her in an unusual display of courtly gallantry. 

_You're going to be my wife,_ he sent to her in response to her surprised look. _I'm entitled to a few gestures of that sort, I suppose._

_As many as you want_, she reassured him, and got a surprised look of her own in return before he went around to the driver's side. 

He pulled out of the garage in as much haste as was legal, which made her think he was as nervous as she. 

Which felt good, even if it was only because he didn't want to lose his XO. 

Some of her thought must have leaked through, for Sagan looked over at her. _Maigrey, you're my partner,_ he sent. _I don't want to do without you in my life._ His thought turned vicious. _And I won't leave you to be violated by a monster._

Maigrey shivered. _Don't think of that,_ she sent back. _Just get us to the cathedral._

He smiled slightly. _As my lady wishes._

After a moment, she curled up on the seat, leaned closer to him until her head brushed his arm. 

He took his hand off the instrument panel, reached out and drew her close so that her head rested on his shoulder, then turned his attention back to his driving. 

She nestled against him for the rest of the ride. Safe.   
  


*****   
  


Inside the cathedral, they headed back toward the sacristy, holding hands. 

Sagan released Maigrey's hand. _Stay here,_ he told her as they reached the altar. _I can go back to the rectory and find a priest to perform the ceremony._ He'd be accepted in the priests' private space, being one of them himself; she wouldn't be allowed. 

But he didn't like the thought of leaving her. 

Maigrey clearly didn't like it either; she clung to his hand, her eyes defiant and a half-formed protest rising then fading in her mind. 

He kissed her forehead. _I won't be long_. Easy to fall into the old patterns of their childhood, to show her the same kind of affection he did then. 

He thought distantly that it might not be the right sort of affection for a husband to show a wife, then dismissed the thought. First they had to _get_ married. 

He drew back from her and started to turn--- 

Only to be halted by a dark-robed figure bearing a candle. 

Only his self-discipline, hard-learned, kept him from startling; Maigrey _did_ jump. "Wha---" 

The figure, too, startled, nearly dropping the candle; hot wax spilled onto the stone. "Bless my soul---" The figure threw back its hood--- and this time Sagan couldn't control his startlement. 

It was the Archbishop.   
  


*****   
  


The archbishop took them back into the sacristy and from there into his office. "I had a premonition something was going to happen tonight that would require my services," said the round little man, his pudgy face rather cheerful for one who clearly hasn't slept and--- if he followed Church doctrine--- would have been up by dawn that morning. "It appears I was right." 

Sagan breathed a sigh of relief. To have no less a personage than the Archbishop officiating at their wedding would make it highly unlikely that even Amodius would object. 

Maigrey, beside him, seemed to agree. "You could say that, sir," she began, sinking into a chair. 

Sagan touched her mind. _You're not going to tell him the whole story!_

_Why not? It can't hurt---_

_He might well side with Amodius!_ Sagan got a grip on his nerve-born temper. _Let me handle this--- please, Maigrey?_

She subsided, looking at him in surprise. 

He took a deep breath, focused on the Archbishop. "The fact of the matter is that the two of us want to get married." 

The Archbishop, for all his amiable appearance, was not so stupid. "The two of you, in the middle of the night, with no advance warning?" he questioned gently. 

Sagan started to form a political lie in his head--- 

And felt the Archbishop's eyes on him. 

Th man would know if he lied. Just like his father always had. And it would go harder with him than if he told the truth. 

So he did. 

The Archbishop's face grew grave as Sagan explained the situation. When he'd fallen silent, the older man frowned. 

"Most unnatural," he muttered under his breath. "Most unnatural indeed---" 

Beside him, Maigrey bristled. "Sir---" 

The Archbishop looked up at her, seeming startled by the outburst. "What--- oh, no, not _you_ two, child," he said in a much kinder tone. "But---" he got to his feet, went to the bookshelves behind him and began rummaging. "Let's see... where--- oh, here it is!" He pulled down a huge tome and set it on the desk. 

Sagan recognized the nature of the volume from his youth: a book of Church law. The archbishop began to flip through it quickly. 

"Let's see... let's see... ah, here we are!" The man found what he was looking for, looked up at them. "According to Church law, the two of you are already married." 

"What?" Maigrey said it, but the question was as much Sagan's as hers. 

The archbishop chuckled. "Dear me, yes--- about a century and a half ago was the first instance of this sort of situation. You see," he added parenthetically, "you're only the sixth mind-linked pair in the history of the Blood Royal; two were aliens, one was an alien and a human, and another was two humans of the same, ah--- gender." 

He paused for a moment, flustered. Sagan heard Maigrey smother a giggle. "Where was I--- oh, yes, the last time this sort of situation came up: a man and a woman who shared a mindlink." 

The priest turned the book toward them, one stubby finger pointing out a passage. "As you see, when the issue of marriage came up, the Church fathers, not knowing what else to do, simply declared the couple married in the eyes of God. There really wasn't much else they _could_ do without being, ah, indelicate, to say the least." He chuckled, selecting a gold paperclip bookmark from a pile on his desk, marked the page, and set the book aside. "So you see, the two of you are already married--- no matter what the king says." Another kindly chuckle. "'Whom God hath joined, let no man put asunder'--- even a king." 

Sagan breathed a sigh of relief, relaxed into his chair. Married. Together. They were safe, beyond the power of any hand but God's to dissolve their union. And she was already his. He had a right to love her. 

Maigrey, too, seemed to have gone limp, draped tiredly over the chair. "So--- that's it?" she asked, seeming rather flabbergasted. "We can just... go home together, if we want?" 

The archbishop chuckled. "Well, if it would make you feel better---" his eyes went from one to the other--- "I could write you up a marriage license." 

Sagan felt another measure of tension go out of him. "Some legal documentation would be useful." He smiled ruefully. "There's not much separation of Church and state, but it's wise to cover all the bases." 

"Yes, yes, render unto Caesar what is Caesar's and all that---" The archbishop started to rise from his seat--- then looked at the two of them, then back at the book still on his desk. "Hmmm---" he settled back, opened it to the marked page. When he looked up his eyes were kind and understanding. "There's also a sort of affirmation ceremony," he said, "that serves for a mind-linked couple--- the two of you are already one in soul, but it reaffirms that joining." The old man's eyes were very gentle. "Would you two like to have that as well?" 

Sagan looked over at Maigrey, found her head already turned to his. 

He wanted this--- wanted anything that would cement their union more fully. But he wouldn't pressure her. 

Her eyes were very bright, almost nervous. 

_If you want._ They thought it at the same instant. 

Sagan laughed aloud, startling the poor Archbishop. _May I tell him?_ It wold feel good to speak for both of them, just this once. 

Maigrey's eyes warmed beneath that brightness. _Oh, yes, my lord--- _She paused for a second, triumphant realization dawning in her eyes._ My husband._   
  


*****   
  


_You know, _Maigrey thought conversationally to Derek--- to her _husband!_--- as they stood before the altar waiting for the archbishop to finish his preparations, _Semele's going to kill me._

The look Sagan turned on her was almost comically horrified. _My lady?_

She laughed, ducked her head and rubbed it against his shoulder, feeling entirely too ebullient for words. Derek was already her husband and nothing could take them away from each other--- certainly not the king, not without going against the dictates of the very Church he held in such high esteem. She was safe. As far as she was concerned, everything was fine. 

Derek clearly wasn't as calm. _Maigrey, please--- what in God's name---_

She laughed again. _That I'm getting married in secret, with absolutely nothing like a proper wedding._

_And no doubt for your choice of bridegroom, as well._ Sagan's thought was dark, bitter. 

Maigrey tossed her head. _Well, I never thought much of Augustus as a husband for her either, so now we're even._ Her own mind was sparkling with humor, bubbling like good champagne. 

Derek, however took her seriously despite that cue. He turned, clasped his hands on her arms. _If you'd rather wait---_

_No, no!_ She caught him by the arms in turn. _This is all I could want. I don't give a damn about anything else._

He stared at her for a long moment, his expression bewildered. Then, almost roughly, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her close. 

_As long as you're happy,_ his thought came to her. _Just as long as you're happy, that's all that matters._

For a moment, Maigrey could only cling to him in disbelief at his words. She managed to catch her breath, opened her mouth to ask what he meant--- 

And at that moment, the Archbishop, dressed in simple vestments, came out of the sacristy. 

Sagan let go of her abruptly, turned toward the altar, reminding her with a little nudge to do the same. 

Maigrey sighed as she assumed an appropriate stance. Well, there'd be time enough to ask him later. 

Joy bubbled up in her soul again. They'd have all the time in the world.   
  


*****   
  


The words of the basic ceremony were simple and brief, though the archbishop explained that they were designed so in order to allow the couple to write their own additional vows, symbolizing their unique relationships. 

Maigrey couldn't suppress a grin at that._ I suppose we'll just have to have another, public ceremony, later on--- after all, we _are_ galactic heroes. _

Sagan groaned audibly. _My God, how vulgar._ He _hated_ public appearances, with about the same passion she hated being forced to act like a "lady". 

Maigrey giggled._ Relax--- Semele can have all the fun of planning the festivities... while you and I slip off somewhere quiet._

Sagan regarded her seriously. _Now that you mention it, this has promise._

_I thought so._ Maigrey giggled again, then sobered as the Archbishop gently cleared his throat. 

"If the two of you would kneel facing each other?" the pudgy man asked politely. 

They knelt. 

She waited through the traditional invocation of the Creator that preceded all the sacraments, felt Derek, automatically, think the words along with the priest. 

And felt, deep in her soul, a gentle and terrible Presence come to rest in the cathedral... and she knew that God's eye was on them. 

The Archbishop finished, then raised his hands. "Creator, two come before You whom Your hand has already united, who wish to pledge their bond anew and vow to live as man and wife henceforth, in this world and the next." 

Maigrey felt a delicious thrill go over her at those words. The standard vows were "till death do you part"--- but this would keep them together forever. 

Unlike the traditional wedding vows, the vows for a mind-linked couple were taken in unison, symbolizing that they were already one in God's eyes. 

The archbishop spoke again. "Do you, Derek Sagan and Maigrey Morianna, accept your God-given bond with one another and vow to cherish each other, to love each other, and to keep faith with one another as husband and wife, for all the days of your life and in the world beyond?" 

Sagan looked at her, even through her it seemed. 

Impulsively, Maigrey reached out and clasped his hands. His fingers locked around hers in a deathlike grip. 

Together, they spoke the words. 

"I do." 

The Archbishop raised his hands again. "Creator, accept the pledge of these two souls and sanctify anew that union which you have already blessed. In the name of the Creator, you are husband and wife." 

Maigrey felt the Presence leave--- not hastily, but with a distinct feeling of satisfaction. She fought a twitch in her lips and wondered what Sagan would think. 

Before she could ask, the archbishop's words drove all thought from her head. "As a sign of your union, you may kiss one another." 

Sagan's eyes on hers were startled... then questioning, asking permission. 

_Of course,_ she thought hurriedly. _You're my husband_. 

_My lady... my wife._ And Sagan leaned close and kissed her. 

Their lips were warm together and tender, and she felt his arms go round her and she clasped him tightly. 

They broke after a decorous instant, but somehow she couldn't let go of him and he clasped her close, seeming just as glad of their embrace. 

They clung together for a moment--- then the archbishop cleared his throat gently. 

Both of them looked up, and Sagan drew back from her quickly. "My apologies---" 

The archbishop chuckled kindly. "No need, no need--- you are, after all, married in the eyes of God and man alike." Another kindly chuckle. "And speaking of the eyes of man--- I'll draw you up that marriage certificate."   
  


*****   
  


The marriage certificate was as suitably florid a document as one could ask for--- well, actually three documents, chemcarboned together to be filled out at once. The archbishop filled in all the relevant spots, then clucked to himself. "I rather think it would be wise to annotate this," he said thoughtfully, "to indicate the precedent under which you were married--- lest His Majesty take umbrage." 

He turned back to the tome from which he had retrieved the citation, began writing it out. Then his hand paused. 

"Oh my," he said quietly. 

Sagan felt his stomach freeze solid. "What is it, Your Eminence?" 

The archbishop recovered himself at once. "What--- oh, dear me, nothing overly important... certainly I don't imagine it will make much difference to the two of you, at any rate." 

Maigrey seemed to have caught Sagan's fear. "What is it, sir?" 

"Apparently, I was somewhat mistaken in my interpretation of the text--- it's not that the two of you aren't considered one in the eyes of God and the Church," he added hastily, as Sagan drew a sharp breath, "but--- just as with any other marriage, it requires a... hmmm... consummation in order to be binding." 

_Consummation._ For a moment the room went dark around him and all he could remember was pain and shame and misery. 

Then Maigrey's cool hand on his arm brought him to his senses. _I think we should be able to arrange that._

Which brought to mind other memories--- memories that said his lady's understanding of sex was far different from his own. He forced a breath, then another. _Yes--- as my lady wishes, of course._

The archbishop, perhaps sensing that the two of them had settled things for themselves, had turned back to his duties. On the back of the gilded parchment, he wrote in his neat looping hand the citation from the Church text, added a swift summary, signed and dated it. "There--- that should clear up any confusion." 

Sagan breathed a sigh of relief as the archbishop turned the paper over. Now there could be no question--- at least of their intent and its legitimacy. 

The round little man handed him the quill. "If the two of you will sign---" 

Sagan did so with alacrity, handed Maigrey the pen and watched in satisfaction as she signed with equal speed. 

"There," said the archbishop in satisfaction, taking the pen back and signing himself. "All the i's dotted and t's crossed as it were." He tore apart the parchments. "One for the Church, one for the Crown--- and one for the happy couple." He turned a gentle look on the two of them as he handed Sagan the roll of parchment. "I truly wish you the greatest of happiness." 

Maigrey answered for them both. "Thank you, sir--- for everything." 

"It's my pleasure--- and _His_ will," the archbishop added with a chuckle, pointing toward the ceiling--- then made a shooing motion with his hands. "Now--- out!" Sagan startled. "It's your wedding night--- you should enjoy what's left of it. Amscray!" 

"I didn't know priests spoke pig Latin," Maigrey said impishly to Sagan as they left the Church. 

Sagan made no comment... but he rather thought she could hear his chuckle in the back of her mind.   
  


*****   
  


On the way back to the car, Maigrey started crying. Sagan regarded her with no little astonishment and not inconsiderable worry. _My lady--- my wife?_

She actually sobbed aloud at that, and he stopped, resting his hands on her arms, feeling a cold chill go through him. What if she didn't want him after all? 

Maigrey nestled into his embrace at once, dispelling a few of his concerns. _A bride's allowed to cry--- it's a constitutional right._

Sagan regarded her in some astonishment. _Well, if you say so, my... wife._ The word was strange but welcome in his mind. 

_I do indeed, my husband. _She snuggled yet more insistently into his arms. _Besides which, I've been on rather an emotional roller coaster today. _

_That much is certain._ He put his arms around her more firmly and cuddled her, relaxing a little now that he knew she wasn't having second thoughts--- wasn't unhappy with him. 

He always had hated her tears, hated them because they meant she was unhappy--- and because he never did know what to do about them. 

Something of his thought must have leaked over into her mind, for she rubbed her head against his chest. _You're doing perfectly at the moment._

_Eh?_

_This is all I ever need when I start crying._

He mulled that over for a second, rubbing his chin in her hair. _It's not always convenient._

_No--- but it works better than yelling at me. _She lifted a face to him that was tea-streaked--- but entirely happy. _Now, will you take me home... my husband?_

_Of course. _He kissed her seriously on the mouth... then drew back as a thought occurred to him. _If you'll tell me where home is._   
  


*****   
  


If Maigrey'd had her druthers, she'd have wanted to spend her wedding night in her father's castle, on her homeworld. But since that was impossible--- there was only one other place in the galaxy fit for this night that was also accessible. 

_My mother's apartments,_ she told him, and felt him startle even before she'd formed the words. 

_Eh?_ He regarded her with one eyebrow arched. 

_Sorry--- I forgot to tell you, but my mother had a place in City Royal. Papa gave it to me after the initiation, but I've never had occasion to go there._

She felt Sagan's mind shift direction at her words. _Dear God, your father--- what are we going to---_

Maigrey smothered a giggle. _That we were already married in the first place, of course. _Derek was still unsanguine; she leaned her head against his shoulder by way of reassurance. _Relax, my lord--- Papa always did approve of you._ And before he could react to that, _Enough about my family. I want to be alone with you, in private, with a locked door or two between us and any interruptions._

Sagan chuckled slightly, started the car. _As my lady wishes--- if_, he amended ruefully, _you'll tell me where to go._   
  


*****   
  


Her mother's apartment had been unused for at least two decades, but the house system had kept the place in good order. 

At least, from the little glance Maigrey took of it, all was as it should be. Certainly the place didn't have that stale smell and unlived-in dwelling acquired and there was no sign of disorder. 

Right now, though, all she cared about was finding the bedroom. The living area--- kitchen, dining room, sitting room--- was all one big open space--- but there were doors off to the side that looked promising. 

Sagan stood silently near the threshold of the apartment, arms clasped across his chest, as she made her investigation. That gave her a moment's pause; he'd been uncharacteristically silent since they'd reached her mother's building, letting her take the lead and withdrawing into himself. 

Well, she'd have to do something about _that_. The Archbishop's announcement couldn't have made her happier, since it was a chance to nail down, as absolutely as possible, that this was _not_ going to be a marriage of convenience. Which required finding the bedroom. 

It was the last door in the row of three, which meant that the bedroom had the corner exposure. Which meant she could be as loud as she wanted--- and he could be as loud as she wanted him to be. 

She smothered a delighted giggle at her own salacious and slightly cruel thoughts, then turned and held out her hand to him. _My lord--- my husband?_

He came to her, though she could see he was trembling, could feel it in his mind. _My lady-wife. _He clasped her hand in his--- a hand uncharacteristically cold and shaking. 

All thoughts of mischief gone, she drew him into the bedroom and closed the door, hit the lock. Some of his nerves might have to do with not wanting to be disturbed. _There--- we're alone and no one's going to bother us._

_Good._ But his mind-voice was faint, trembling, and he made no move to take her in his arms. 

She stepped close to him, puzzled and no little frustrated at his reticence. _Derek, what is it? Please, for God's sake tell me._ A thought struck her. _If you don't want---_ She remembered that peculiar proposal of his. _Derek, I'll understand if you don't want me---_

_Dear God!_ The intensity of his thought shocked her._ How could I not?_ He took a half-step toward her than froze, like a wild thing caught in a hunter's lights. _I want to but...._ He trailed off, looking away from her. 

Maigrey had a sudden flash of insight and fought another giggle. Was _that_ all that was eating him? _Derek, it's my first time too. We've got the rest of our lives to practice. _

He regarded her in some surprise--- then relaxed. She smiled a little--- good, she'd been right.   
  


_Besides which, _she continued, _we've got the mind-link--- that gives us both an edge._ At his startled look, she smiled. _Exactly._

He took a deep breath. _I'm sorry, Maigrey--- sorry for-- inflicting this stupid panic on you---_

_Oh, don't be,_ she said gently. _After all, I panicked at you earlier, didn't I? Now,_ she said before he could respond, _I want to be with my husband._

Another deep breath--- then he took her in his arms, almost hesitantly. _And I,_ he told her, looking into her eyes quite intently, _want very much to please my wife._

_You do--- oh, Derek, you already have._ And she took him by the hand and led him to the bed. 

And when he was still reticent about the business, she took or kept the lead--- unfastened the seal on her shirt, slowly and deliberately--- not teasingly or seductively which would only have gotten a laugh out of him at best--- but with a rather serious intent in her eyes and mind. And then she followed suit on his shirt, until he stopped her--- not reluctantly, but quite firmly--- and undid the seal himself. 

Which was quite fine with her, because it left her hands free to get her bra unfastened and off, so that they were both bare-chested at once. 

And then without needing to ask-- -the mind-link or something deeper taking over--- they stepped to each other and kissed. 

This was the finest thing she'd ever felt in her life--- the hard heat of his body, rippling muscle under scarred skin, thick coarse curly hair rubbing against her nipples until she wanted to scream, and the warmth and strength of his arms coming round her and clasping her close as she got her own arms round him and their mouths locked together. 

When they finally broke, there was no more hesitation in him--- though perhaps a certain shyness--- as they finished undressing. He moved to embrace her again, but she held him back. _Let me see you--- let me have your sight of me_--- 

Puzzled, perhaps, he drew back and let her have what she wanted: the sight of his great body naked for her, all smooth hard muscle and scars, utterly and consummately a man to be desired. 

Gentle laughter in her mind from his. _As my lady wishes._ She found it hard to credit the genuine disbelief in his mind at his understanding of her response to the sight of him. 

She threw back her head in a challenge. _And what do you think when you see me?_

_You're beautiful,_ he answered, with no hesitation--- then, more gently, shyly even--- _but I couldn't not think that of you. I've never thought of another woman._

She trembled at that, and this time when she moved into his arms it was for mutual comfort more than sex. _That's so amazing--- you were almost a man when I met you---_

_No I wasn't. _His thought was sad, tired. _I was... alone, that was all. And never expected to be anything else._ He drew back from her, cupped her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. _Whatever good has been made of my life--- was your doing, Maigrey. Yours and yours alone._ His lips twisted then, wryly. _And whatever faults there are, are mine._

She trembled in his arms, even as the coolly sarcastic part of her mind framed an answer. _That's hardly fair, now, is it? To give me all the credit---_

_It's deserved._ He bent and kissed her, very softly, on the lips. _And now I _am_ being unfair--- I'm denying you what you asked of me._

This time the kiss was far deeper, warmer and more intense. And when they broke she pulled him down on the bed with her and twined herself about him, kissing him eagerly until the lingering tension in him began to fade. 

At which point, she set to work on him in earnest, rubbing her hands over his chest and back and sides and legs as she'd fantasized about doing for so many nights alone.... 

_I remember those... fantasies,_ he sent, his mind dreamy-hot with the pleasure her touch and the memory evoked. _You were rather imaginative, for twelve._

_I had excellent inspiration,_ she answered, feeling her lips stretch in a smile. And then bent herself to him in earnest--- because her body, conditioned by all those nights, was beginning to respond. 

From the looks of things, he was responding as well--- and for the first time she felt a slight twinge of nerves. He was a large man... in every respect--- 

_Maigrey,_ his voice, urgent, in her mind, cut into that thought. _I'd never hurt you--- not for anything, certainly not for a brief moment of physical pleasure._ He sneered at the thought. _If you don't want---_

_But I do!_ she protested earnestly. _I want to have everything with you---_

He took a deep breath, drawing her close; she could feel the pounding of his heart in his chest. _All right,_ he said gently. _Why not begin now--- _little quirk of humor in his mind--- _while I still have some vestige of self-control?_

That suggestion sounded good--- better than good, to have him deep inside her while they made love. _Yes,_ she thought, and lay back, opening for him. 

He took another deep breath--- and this time she sensed the tremors were anything but reluctance. And then he moved onto her, his warm weight at once arousing and satisfying--- and drew back a little and began to ease himself into her. 

He'd hardly begun when she felt a twinge of pain, and he stopped at once. _Maigrey---_

_No, I'm fine._ And she was, except for being torn between aching lust and a certain desire to be able to walk straight the next morning. _Please, Derek--- more?_

And she slid her hand between their bodies and helped him into her a little farther--- and got a groan of utter delight for her efforts. 

Which she echoed in a little whine of her own. This was exactly what she would have wanted, if she'd known what to ask for--- to have his weight on top of her, yes, but at the same time to be able to control their union. 

And from the look in his eyes and the heat in his mind, he had the same feeling. He let her into his neural net a little ways so that she could feel what it was to him to be held like this, at once controlled and welcomed inside her.... 

"Ohhhhh...." She couldn't help but speak aloud now, to give voice to the deep teasing pleasure this called up in her blood and bones. "Yes... yes, Derek... my husband...." 

He bent himself very carefully over her and kissed her. "My lady-wife---" he said against her lips. 

And by slow delicious stages she brought him into her, until he was flush against her and deep inside. And except for that one instant, she hadn't felt a jot of pain. 

_Now?_ he asked, looking down into her eyes. 

_Oh, yes, now, Derek. Now._

And then, slowly at first, but with an ever deepening rhythm, he began to thrust into her. And she got her arms and legs around him and clasped him to her, and in their delight they tumbled on the bed until there was no question of taking or being taken but rather only of pleasure and sharing and finally and deep and earth-shattering release. 

She might have screamed. He might have. It didn't matter. They were husband and wife in the eyes of God and the world and nothing could ever part them. 

And then they were lying together in a tangled heap of arms and legs and Maigrey thought her very bones were melting with happiness. 

It occurred to her that there was something she hadn't yet said to him, and she looked up at him. _Derek?_

_Maigrey... my wife._ He found her hand, brought it to his lips with consummate tenderness. 

_I love you._

Long moment of silence from him, in which she feared that she'd somehow completely misunderstood him. 

Then... softly and nervously and uncertainly... _I love you too._


End file.
